


Induction to Romance

by Slycmase



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, M/M, also pretend we're in a relationship au, fuck yes coffeeshop au, god the tagging system is a mess, pretend we're in a relationship au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slycmase/pseuds/Slycmase
Summary: Logan can't stop thinking about the curly-haired pun enthusiast he met when he accidentally poured his coffee to the latter. Meanwhile, Roman finds out and fakes a relationship with Virgil in order to bring the two nerds together.





	1. HuggaMug Cafe

It wasn't often that Logan would wander outside his workplace unprompted.

To museums of national history? Sure. Watching documentaries on a nearly empty cinema? He’s there, happy to soak up knowledge. But to find him in commonplace areas outside his usual scope of intelligent scenes, well, there’s a higher chance that one would be hit by lightning before he would participate in everyone else’s barbaric pastime of wasting away time than learn. Yet there he was, visiting the nearby Coffee shop, not because of pressure from his friend, but of his own free will. A place not known for serving knowledge, only drinks.

A simple visit turned routine, a feat he didn’t account as probable, a thing that he never planned. Too much time spent on that HuggaMug Cafe when he could’ve easily brewed his own coffee at home, Logan Berry is not the type of person who would prolong an activity if it was not beneficial to his time.

Which became an increasingly worrying problem for him as he seemed to spend more and more time just sat, sipping on a cup of coffee that he could have finished within a few minutes, if not less when he’d just get the drink on the go. Something he did religiously for years as a student, reviewing for class while simultaneously enjoying his coffee.

Of course, despite evidence, he would deny that his newly formed habit and caffeine fixation stemmed from what he would call, “The Incident”. That day, despite him being the teacher, it seemed that he had been the one to learn: that unexpected situations still had their bright sides.

It had been raining, on the one of the few chances where Logan had forgotten to bring an umbrella. In that state, he had two choice to either wait for the rain to turn to a light drizzle or or simply suck it up and get wet.

The rain was the cherry on top on an overwhelmingly stressful day. With how much Logan wanted it to be, nothing still seemed to go his way. Was he frustrated? you bet. As much as Logan loved imparting his wisdom to willing students, and while Roman believed that he was a giant nerd who wanted nothing more than to prove that he was smarter than everyone else, he truly did like his job.

And yet, he could be… less than composed at times. Especially when three teachers have collectively decided to use their vacation days at once, leading him to cover more than his backup backup plan. All of which didn’t account for the weather. Or perhaps it was the outburst of meddling to his routine, safe practice that got him frazzled. Whatever the case, however, he he stumbled out of his bed ungracefully, feeling much like a newborn deer, figuratively at least.

While he might have a reputation for being strict, that does not cover the extent entirely.

“I see.” His tone might have nothing short of his normal cool politeness, but deep down, as he never lets himself become panicked or overwhelmed, he screamed profanities. He ended the short discussion with an agreement to help cover up a few of his coworker’s absence, one of which is unaccounted for. A phone call with unwelcome news wasn't what he expected when he faced the day.

Unprofessional, Logan would’ve commented to their face. While it might not have that much effect than the ultimate sign of aggression- yet a vulgar term, “Fuck you”, for him it was the lowest and gravest insult you could say to an adult. Profanity has never been his strong suit, as to state such thoughts would have been inappropriate to the majority of people, and would often come off as crass and uneducated. Simply unacceptable.

Well. It was not like he could do anything, short of protesting, if it weren’t an inefficient use of time. Effort and payoff does not outweigh each other, thus began a stressful saga of a rushed presentations, all aimed to give students the lessons they needed, made from scratch with the use of the internet, the much useful syllabus, and free time reduced to none.

By the end, Logan hoped he didn’t looked as haggard as he felt. When his phone chimed with its usual alarm to the workday’s end, exhaustion rolled from every step he took. His usual posture felt heavy, so he slouched his way outside the faculty area, mindlessly clicking away on his phone as he walked. Although he was certain that the majority of both young and old people considered Candy Crush as a dead form of entertainment; to that he’ll simply scoff.

He opened the door to a nearly deserted campus, students already out of sight, either to rush an assignment or to sleep. He walked through the grounds, the weather gloomy as it enveloped the sky in grey.

A tap made him stare up, and there it was. More droplets fell to his face. He rushed to the waiting shed, and rummaged through his bag, only to come up empty. The small blue umbrella he had must’ve still be at his apartment, tucked beside his shoe rack.

He ran his hand through his hair as he debated. To leave or not to leave? That was the question. His hand felt damp, but the rain didn’t seem to be strong, as of the moment. If he ran now, he could still get back to his apartment not entirely drenched. His feet tapped the pavement in short frequencies, as he covered his head in vain.

As if the rain sensed his presence, although he knew it was only a coincidence, water poured faster, droplets sprayed him from left to right. Even the wind picked up, and he gritted his teeth as he shivered. He ignored the familiar dark buildings of the neighborhood, home the only thing in mind. He ran faster on instinct.

Perhaps he shouldn’t been so careless, or maybe it was his fatigue that weighed him down, but he slipped. His bag tumbled to his side as his world came to a crashing halt, his hands the only thing that kept him barely upright. One knee got drenched on the ground, and he winced at the impact. His hands felt dirty, the piercing small rocks pressed against his skin.

“This is not my day.” He stood slowly, slinging his bag to his body in the process.

He searched for shelter. His eyes caught the soft glow of what seemed to be a restaurant, finally a proper objective for today's contrasting sequence.

His footsteps joined the rhythmic tapping of water as the weather relentlessly chased those without cover. His breath came out in puffs, his legs heavy.

He reached the threshold without any more incidents, pausing at the front. He shook his heads of his thoughts and went in, grateful for the heat. He must’ve looked like a mess, with water everywhere and a dirty knee from his fall. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. He did notice, however, that his earlier prediction had been incorrect, and that the place was not a restaurant, but rather, a Cafe.

A drink would do him good, as the weather didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He walked up to the counter and bought a cup of black coffee. He dumped his bag on the nearest chair while he waited for his name to be called. He got his phone out only to see the battery had already drained. His roommate must be wondering where he was.

He sighed and removed his remarkably wet cardigan, and used it to wipe the few grains of sand still stuck to his knee.

“Logan?” He stood up and gathered his drink, not paying attention to anything.

He didn’t realize how his feet shuffled almost drunkenly, head in the clouds as his mind draw in a blank.

He didn’t realize that his drink was dangerously close to spilling.

He didn’t realize how a person, distracted as well but by laughter and greeting someone from his behind, was turned in his direction.

The man he bumped into screamed- understandable, really.

Proper manners kicked in immediately. “I am so sorry,” he added a bit of criminally inflection to his voice, a trait he picked up from Roman. Most people do not take it well when he’d speak in his monotone.

Logan waited the inevitable shouting at him. He itched to leave, even if might be rude. He, however, forced his head, which was already in the process of turning to the floor in shame, to face the man who he had inconvenienced.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, ready for the inevitable glare to be thrown to his face.  _“I was otherwise occupied,”_  he might’ve played off, but his experience with dealing with other people was that excuses are always unacceptable. He faced his victim in the eyes.

“This is really hot!” The man said, electric blue eyes wide. As if only now feeling the sensation, the man leaped up and sprinted into the bathroom, a few tables jostled on the way. The man once again shrieked in fear. “It’s occupied!”

He turned back to Logan in short strides and grabbed his shoulders. “I’m going into shock! Is this how it feels to have boils?”

“That is not the correct-” Logan snapped his mouth shut. He couldn’t think of any other thing to remedy the situation, but he’ll avoid making it worse, if he could just be on his best behavior. He inched back, hoping that the other removed the tight grip on him.

“Am I melting?” The man asked, without a trace of irony. “If I die, tell my son I love him.” His eyes never stayed from Logan, a tad bit too serious, yet without fear.

That single minded intensity threw Logan off for a second, the man's eyes too blue and too close, and while he felt like he was not in complete control of his body but at the same time knowing he was, in fact, steering and doing the action himself, he reached out from a table near his mostly forgotten belongings and threw a glass of cold water over the man.

His hands felt cold even as blood rushed into face, something usually indicative when he’d been frustrated. But he wasn’t. It took him a moment to discern the emotion. He was embarrassed.

He took a step back, with half a mind to run off. Yet his surprise was mirrored by the other’s, who simply watched him as the water dripped from his curls to the floor in hurried rush.

The stranger opened his mouth not to shout, but to say, “This isn’t the first thing on my mind when someone says the cold shoulder. But hey, it works!” Objectively, or if the reverse happened to Logan, he would deem it as a horrible day. Drenched in coffee and showered in cold water- basically a nightmare. And yet the man in front of him did nothing but smile, and make terrible jokes.

_Sincere_ , he noted of the smile. He found himself less rigid, and calmed. “I am so sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He said, surprising himself of his mirrored sincerity. "I should have been paying attention." He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it carefully to the curly haired man, who took it without hesitation.

“Oh, it's fine. I'm fine. But..."

Logan's forced himself to remain calm.

"Are you hurt?” the man asked him. It was the last thing he would have expected the other would say. As if to placate Logan, the man instead smiled, and added hurriedly, “I guess you could say this place is getting too steamy, Or is it just me?” He cocked his head, curls falling out of place from its head like halo. When he received no response, he smiled wider and continued, “Is that too corny? I was aiming for bittersweet. Get it? Cause it's coffee?”

“I could- I should pay to get that cleaned,” Logan blurted out, and wondered why a stutter drew out when he’d had none for a couple years or so now.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, accidents happens,” The stranger attempted to placate him, which did not help at all. Logan strived for perfection, and while unattainable, he does not do anything without coherent thought. He certainly does not make a habit of being clumsy, or throwing drinks at unsuspecting people. Simply put, he was offended.

“I insist.” His tone grew cool, none-encompassing of his friend’s flamboyant behaviour, which he only imitate in times of social placation. Times unlike this one.

“It’s not hot, see.” The man fanned his shirt out, eyes locked in concentration as if he might fool Logan that he was forcefully ejecting any source of heat. A scientific impossibility, unless one were to draw heat from a dryer, a kettle, of a microwave, and still an impossibility with human bodies. The antics, which reminded him of a certain head in the clouds friend, comforted him.

Social convention- or at least as much as he had experienced, demanded that the two of them should throw an epic- if he recalled correctly -down smack. Which might have left him with a punch and a few bruises during his student days. Needless to say, he was prepared. But it wasn’t happening.

“May I offer you my-” his hands moved faster than his mouth, he’d already shrugged his jacket off, but the man waved it off.

“I’m prone to spilling a few drinks here and there, too.” He said with a smile, as if lack of coordination and uncontrolled limbs was somehow endearing. “I have spare clothes.”

“The least I could offer is to buy you a coffee?” Logan asked politely.

Almost ruefully, the man shook his head. “Oh, I am trying to limit my caffeine intake. I tend to palpitate.”

This only served to confuse the Logical man further. “We are in a coffee shop. Isn’t this establishment’s purpose is to serve caffeinated drinks?”

“True”, The man conceded, not even battling an eye when Logan lapsed into his overly polite nerd voice, as Roman liked to call it. The other man seemed to ooze acceptance for everything he does. “But they also serve pastries, cupcakes, doughnuts, all those sugary goodness.”

“All highly unhealthy.” He didn’t even realize that his mouth has scrunched up in disgust. He removed the expression as he realized its existence, as to not offend the other.

“True,” the man echoed. His tone bounced into jolly. “But I believe that life shouldn’t be lived without the simplest pleasures! A few cupcakes here and there won’t kill you.”

Peculiar. It was neither patronizing or condescending, but rather something of a suggestion. Rather than dismissing his sentiment and accusing him of being someone of a killjoy, the stranger in front of him accepted his belief and offered his own. Absolutely peculiar.

“I must be going now,” Logan waved, even as his head urged him to stay. Unusual, as Logan would like to bolt every moment possible when dealing with an uncomfortable situation. "I do apologize for my misstep." The man waved it off with a smile.

He didn’t rush to grab his belongings as he would have done otherwise. His mind didn’t scream at him to calm down and walk slower to not be rude, and instead it was the opposite where his mind compelled him to turn back and stay. He didn’t feel compelled to get another drink, while he might be cold earlier, his embarrassment certainly warmed him up.

In the entire duration of their talk, his wrist watch was completely ignored, a break in his ingrained habit in peeking every so often. It was only then when he realized his phone was still out of commission that he resigned and stared at the watch.

Five minutes to seven. He was going to be late for dinner with his friend Roman, for the first time in ever. It was maddening. The day had been simply maddening.

Maybe it wasn’t just the coldness of the damp air outside that woke him up from his the sweet bubble of the shop. Or not even the slow but sure fading of the warmness of the coffee shop and it’s bright interior. Outside the door, he stood alone.

Outside, it was cold, wet, and somber. Logan embraced reality, sighed, and stepped outside from the confines of shelter.

If he had left just a minute later, he might have caught Patton, breathless and triumphant in finding an umbrella, his victory deflated when realizing that the strange, almost stilted man already left before he had a chance to offer it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shouldn't i be working at rfti? well... yes! but... coffee... and curly patton, teacher logan... i am weak... sorry.


	2. Late Rift

"All we see is sky, for forever...."

The unabashed rendition of the musical Dear Evan Hansen did not surprise Logan as he stepped inside his humble abode.

Unlike what most would expect, the sound did not come from his modest stereo (full of piano and violin classics), but rather from the loud and flamboyant actor that would more often than not, intrude on his home despite living beside. Not that Logan would really complain. No, he was long past that stage of pretending that Roman was nothing more than a nuisance, a noisy neighbor.

A wave of sentimentality crashed over Logan as he soaked in the scene. In another time, a few years ago, Roman had been singing at the top of his voice, unlike this time.

To be fair, Logan was pretty far gone into grading and checking his student’s essays to really notice the time, but still. Either case, it was too early or too late for his neighbor to be singing random Disney songs in the night- or early morning. There was no excuse to be tolerate this behavior, even if he was not sleeping there was still the matter of time.

Confrontation was not Logan’s strong suit, but he did left a strongly worded letter in front of his neighbor’s apartment- one that displayed his sentiment.

It took the two a long, long time to go from passive aggressively written fighting to becoming friends, but to Logan, it was worth it.

Logan, in the present, shook off his still damp shoes and peeled off his socks. That and his entire outfit was going to be dumped in the washer immediately.

The singing did not lessen with Logan's unannounced appearance, but he did gave a nod of acknowledgement to the actor before disappearing off to his room.

He grabbed a shirt and pajamas to change, and left his still wet clothing on his small washing machine.

He returned to the small kitchen with a lighter spirit.

Roman triumphantly waved a hand over something rotating in the microwave, which, Logan noted with a bit of relief, was take out.

Granted, the other man had enough ability to cook the basic food group to keep him alive, but Roman tended to experiment. The results were mixed: sometimes edible, but more often, it was not. Logan would rather not play Russian Roulette with every bite, thank you very much.

“You’re late.” There was no judgement, despite what might be an accusation in the actor’s tone. There was something there, too. Concern. The actor turned to face him, and Logan shrugged.

"I had a little trouble in school."

“Looks like more than a little trouble. You look wet.” Roman clicked his tongue. “Did a student tried to cheat in one of your horrible tests again? No offense on you, but in general teachers are horrible beings with no regards to a students emotional well being.”

“One time is all it takes to break an artist,” Roman said solemnly. He snapped back up, then walked over the counter to reach for the neatly arranged dishes inside the rack. “What happened then? Student had a mental breakdown and tried to start arson? You accidentally threw the water to yourself?”

“Is that a jest?”

“Why, I would never. Although, yes, I do admit that might be over dramatic. Did a student forgot an assignment and tried to haggle for time extension or grades?”

“That only happened once, and no, not even close.” Logan accepted the plate. “Just forgot to bring an umbrella.”

Roman brought out an apron and held the steaming dish, straight from the microwave. “Voila!” He rattled off the name of the dish. Logan didn’t bother to correct his pronunciation.

Logan helped the other serve and the two came back to their respective seats. They started their feast with one eating with a hum, the other quiet and contemplative.

Roman noticed the other sigh in mid-chew. He furrowed his brow, but continued to eat.

“Roman?" He started with a low voice. "Does it bother you if people act beyond your expectation?”

The actor smiled before answering. "It's quite an adventure for me! Discovering new reactions, people revealing different sides of their personality, I'm glad to see people break out of their shell."

"Hm."

Roman scrutinized him. "Did something happen?"

"I would prefer to keep it to myself."

"My dear Logan, do not fear! I am not opposed to raising arms, if it meant defending your honor! Chivalry should never have been dead. Why, Think of all the people that could’ve been like me!"

Logan did not bother to justify the last words with a response. Or even the whole stuck-as-a-prince-character that seemed too extreme for today. “Thank you for the thought. But it is nothing, really.”

“I won’t press if it is, as you say, not a big deal. However, I just want you to know, I’m here for you, yeah? Even not as a knight. As a friend.”

There was nothing but sincerity as his friend gave him a look. The earlier warmth came crawling back to his chest, and Logan cracked. “Well, there was a mix match in our faculty this morning. They announced it that I should hold three unplanned classes as a substitute.”

"Tough day, huh?"

“I- Yes. I forgot my umbrella and got caught up in the rain. Then I got coffee on this person. He wasn’t even mad.” There was an underlying wonder in his voice.

Something that Roman must’ve picked up.

”That must’ve been stressful for you. Care to elaborate, my socially awkward speaker?” He noticed the sideways glare that the other gave him. “Okay, okay, you hate the nicknames. But onwards with your tale?”

Logan told him.

He didn't realize how much his interaction with the stranger stuck with him. Or the curiosity that followed him, which made his fingers poised as if cradling a pen, ready to write how each curl fell perfectly around the man's face like a halo. Logan blinked. If he'd stumbled on his story this far, Roman didn't comment.

“Well that was certainly interesting.” Was Roman’s only comment.. “Do you have anything to identify them with? Perhaps a glass slipper?”

Logan sipped from his glass of water. “You need to stop binge watching cartoons in the middle of the night.”

"Hey! I'm mindful of my neighbors this time! I even use headphones."

"Sadly, that does not stop you from singing at the top of your voice whenever a musical part comes on."

Roman dignified the statement with a sheepish smile. "I don't know what you are talking about. Why must a respectable professional such as yourself be up in the late hours of the night when the rest of the world is asleep? You must have been dreaming. It is the only logical answer. Perhaps my morning concertos have been infiltrating even your dreams, hmm?”

Logan sighed, and did not remind the other of the many essay he'd finish checking in the dark cloak of the night. Whoever said that Logan wasn’t a workaholic?

While not receiving a response, Roman remained unfazed. “You still haven't given your answer. Perhaps you have their cellphone number, or name?”

Logan blinked slowly. “I believe I do not.”

“Tale as old as time! Perhaps you are missing your prince from the ball.”

Suddenly, his friend's outdated mannerism seemed too much. “Please do not confuse me with one of your fairytale animations, Roman. I may be tolerant of your whimsy but do not place your ideals on me. There is nothing that warrants this event as a fairytale.”

“Of course.” There was no anger in his friend, perhaps disappointment. “I apologize if I might have been too pushy. Speaking as a… friend, you haven’t look as.. happy that when describing this mysterious person. If you do not wish for me to intrude, then I shall respect that.”

“Good.” Logan's relieved reply.

“After all,” Roman said with a hopeful look, “Love always finds a way!”

When their routine dinner ended the same way it always had, the actor back to his apartment and Logan resting on his bed, Logan kept replaying his friend's words.

He wanted the words out, but they refused to give. Delusional. It was naive, how Roman continued to wait for a soulmate when nothing in this logical world had ever hinted of their existence. In this world where billions of people come and go daily, the belief that soulmate- one person having another one so compatible that they might as well be called perfect for each other- was improbable.

Sure, there will be a person that could make you happy, but the odds of having only one perfectly compatible and romantic partner is not something that Logan believed exists.

And love? The chemical that entices humans to stay together to keep breeding after the first enticements of lust disappears? Logan would have no part of it. The memory of his strange interaction with the curly haired person would just have to stay a safe, comforting, but altogether, just a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy i updated! while procrastinating on that bio ppt i should be doing...


	3. Vestige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman finally meet.

"Mhmm," Logan said.

Roman rolled his fingers on the table.

"That's unfortunate. But brilliant." Logan said, after a pause, as he scrolled through his phone.

Roman crossed his arms.

"I agree."

Roman sighed.

They were outside the main cafe, in a shaded area by the side. With the sweet ambiance and flowers all around, normally Roman would be off hunting for the perfect location for his Instagram. Yet, this Prince was not in the mood to enjoy the admittedly, rustic beauty of the place.

"You did good, Roman. A great accomplishment."

Said Roman banged his head across the quaint little table. "Drop it Logan. I stopped talking about a minute ago."

His friend had the decency to look embarrassed. "I- forgive me. You tend to go off and I really don't-"

"-Care as much as I towards my fandoms?"

Logan calmly straightened his glasses. "That is a matter of opinion. I truly did enjoy that kid's show you made me watch- space rocks, was it? Although I much rather enjoyed the other one. Where there's codes and Ciphers? The twist was a disappointment, however."

"What?! Gravity Falls is a masterpiece." The words rolled off his tongue easily, in an almost exaggerated tone to drive in a point. "Oh, don't pretend you don't know the titles. I heard you humming Jam Buds just the other day."

Logan opted to ignore the attempted jab. "It was almost too easy to deduce that there was another twin into the equation. One that appeared constantly through flashback and retelling that all seem to stem from Stanley's memory. Someone that looked like him but only remembered by him. Was that all they could do?"

"Logan, everyone predicted that even without watching every episode over and over again at three in the morning."

"There are clues hidden everywhere, Roman!" He said, louder than his norm. "How would I find them unless every detail is examined thoroughly?"

Roman didn't bother with a response as he took in the atmosphere of the little cafe. He peered into the window near them.

Soft yellows and blues covered the establishment from head to toe, a feat that miraculously didn't clash. If anything, the colors seemed to complement each other, both content with their own yet still managing to stand together and not apart. The tables are all wood, as with its chairs, the classic brown filling the place with almost a sense of homeliness.

Roman wouldn't admit it out loud, but he could see the appeal.

"Here's your order," A begrudging tone got Roman looking up faster than if someone dared to touch his vintage sword.

The waitress that took their order wasn't the one that brought their drinks. No, this was someone quite different, someone more memorable.

Roman caught his eyes, hidden underneath a veil of purple hair. One blue, and the other green. The difference in his eye colors weren't off-putting at all, if anything, Roman wanted to stare at them as much as was something intense there, and Roman wanted to figure it out.

Roman realized he was staring for way too long.

"Would that be all, sir?" The waiter seemed annoyed, and Roman flushed.

"Yeah."

The waiter rolled his eyes- delicately marked with eyeliner- then took his leave.

Roman bit his lip then turned to his friend, who seemed absorbed in his phone.

"You seem to come here often?" Roman prodded.

Logan didn't bother to deny it. "Yes."

Roman hesitated, but not for long. "Why? It's not because of one of the workers here, right?"

Logan's silence was more than telling.

Roman sighed. If his friend were to pursue the emo nightmare over there, then Roman would just avoid as much as interaction possible with the guy. Even if he was really cute.

He watched his friend sip his coffee. If he didn't know any better, he wouldn't notice the sudden softness of his friend's eyes, the serenity as he tasted his drink. It was absolutely peculiar.

He stared at his own drink in distaste.

The waiter was rude.

Roman tapped his fingers as he pondered.

Well, there was nothing wrong about befriending a potential friend of his friend, right?

Mind made, he bolted out of his seat and muttered an excuse to Logan, then went into the cafe.

* * *

Logan took one look at his coffee before diving in. The creaminess hit his tongue as it always did, filling, not too bitter, not too sweet. He didn't realize that there was an alternative to burning his tongue or waiting for his drink to cool off, but it only took one comment from him before his drink had decidedly, become infinitely better.

The soft screech of wood against the floor interrupted him. He looked up in time just to see Roman rushing off, with a mutter of, "I'll be just a sec, to the bathroom. Yeah, there."

He wondered why he was rushing, since it was a small cafe. Although, if he were to think about it, there is an advantage to going to the loo as quickly as possible; to avoid the inevitable lines. Early bird gets the worm and all that. He silently approved.

He flicked his phone open without a flourish as he sipped his drink.

Hands blocked his vision. A deep voice greeted him, "Guess who?"

"You may release me, Patton."

"How did you guess?!" Just like that, the peppy voice was back, the falsetto dropped. "Good morning!"

"Salutations as well."

"Oh, there's no need for that aloofness. We're all friends here." Patton released his hold with a smile.

Logan opened his eyes to see the brunet's curls pinned in place by a hairband with cat ears. He raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter Logan? Cat got your tongue?"

"Did you wear that accessory just to make puns?"

"Catxactly." Patton nodded his head. "Meow's the time for action! You're not leaving here without a smile, Mister!"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm ignoring all that wordplay." Logan said as he sipped his caffeine, "The usual is fine, thanks."

"No sir! I've made it my mission, and you shall receive."

"You still haven't accepted my suggestion?"

"Well your ideas seem to be a little extravagant. A simple sorry and thank you will do! And besides, I've already forgiven you about the incident. In fact, I would like to think that your clumsiness brought us together!"

"But it might have ruined you a shirt," Logan reasoned.

"I can get a meow one!"

"I could help out here to make up for it."

"Paw that's silly! We're fine, thanks."

"Perhaps I could-"

"Logan, you made a mistake, and I've forgiven you. It's that simple, and you can't do anything about it." He grinned. "You could say its... catnip under the bridge. It's been WEEKS!"

Logan really didn't know what to make of his newest friend. The guy seemed to let things go or handle things as they come, as easy as he was breathing. If he were asked outright, he would say it is a bit unsettling. But not to Patton's face of course. But maybe, just a tad bit, he could admit inside that the trait is quite endearing.

"Well maybe I won't make up for it," Logan lightly held his chin as he considered, "But perhaps you'll let me do something nice for you?"

Patton pretended to consider it, before bouncing lightly in place. "You really don't have to! But what do you have in mind?"

"I'll plan a day out. If it's not in conflict with your work and you don't have anything else to do of course, any prior engagements, I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"That sounds fun!"

Logan thought for a second. "Would you be opposed to going to the amusement park set up near the beach?"

"That would be cool!"

Logan's posture slumped in relief. "I'm glad. I wouldn't want to bring you somewhere you won't like. So next week?"

"I'm free on Saturday."

"Then it's settled. I'll pick you up at, say, nine?"

"Sure!"

Logan picked up a small card from his bag. "You can call me here if there's anything you want to ask, or if anything comes up. I wouldn't want our day out to start off as catastrophic."

Patton gasped. "You made a cat pun," he said in awe, as his eyes shined not unlike all of the prowess of the sun.

Despite himself, he could feel a smile coming on. "That was clearly unintentional. It was in the word."

"You mean punintentional?" Patton wiggled his eyebrows.

"Still ignoring that."

"Oh Logan," Patton sighed dramatically, "There hiss no shame in admitting you like puns!"

"Now that's more of a snake than a cat." Logan complained.

"Purrsonally I think it's fine."

"And you've recycled a few puns now. Frankly, I'm disappointed."

Patton didn't miss a beat. "It's not all total trash."

A pause. Logan coughed up air then turned his face down as he trembled.

Patton patted his back in concern, only to realize that the silent shaking... was Logan laughing.

Logan met his eyes for a moment and saw stunned confusion. The sight only lifted his spirit more, filling him with a sense of warmness that he haven't experienced in a long time, and a sound reached his ears: he wasn't just silently laughing.

Patton's eyes was wide. A stifled gasp escaped him, and he could feel the way his heart loudly pounded in his chest.

While Logan calmed himself easily enough, he knew his eyes were still crinkled.

Patton was still smiling, but it was softer, somehow. "That was... beautiful."

Logan didn't think much of the complement, but he did think about how Patton's lashes seemed to be closer.

* * *

A flash of purple was all that he needed. Roman's eyes scoured the small set-up, and his heart thudded in his chest as he finally caught the color.

Normally, the bold colors of red and gold would be the one he sought, but not today! He followed the trail of the grapes of wrath and finally caught up, with the waiter who currently washed his hands at the sink at the bathroom.

Roman strode up. "My friend," he greeted.

The man looked at him with what might be confusion or thinly veiled irritation. "Are you talking to me?"

Roman smiled brightly. "Of course you! the powerpuff girl reject. This is just to jump start the inevitable friendship that's gonna blossom between us one way or another."

"And you think that because?" He drawled out the word, as he waited for the other to elaborate.

Roman was more than happy to explain. "Well I would offer my condolences, but it is my friend we are talking about. Love is in the air and I would be very glad to see it blossom from platonic into something more."

If this was supposed to ease the mind of their waiter, it didn't work. Instead, the darkness clad antihero only narrowed his eyes in distaste, before saying, in the most unimpressed tone, "Seriously?"

Roman's smile faded. "Excuse me, good sir?"

"Well you can't blame me for being surprised. But I suppose, even his standards are low. What did you do, make puppies appear from thin air? Cause I know he'll absolutely love that."

While offended, Roman was more confused than ever. "What are you insinuating? That you have bad taste?"

"Dumb too, that's a bonus." The man still had that unimpressed look. "For the record, I have excellent taste, considering your Nice Guy persona."

Roman's face heated. "How dare-"

"-well I guess there's no accounting for him having an actual type, but I can't believe you're this insufferable."

"Now wait a sec, I could say the same to you! I've been nothing but polite and you've been nothing but rude."

The snarky waiter waved his hand into a semi-bow. "What's stopping you?" He gestured to the exit. "If you find me so unpleasant, then..."

Roman huffed. "I'm reaching my limits but I know there's something inside that deep, dark clothing and even darker soul. Otherwise, no one would have liked you. Let me guess, you're a poet? Of course Logan would fall for those uptight wordsmiths. I came to hopefully reach an impasse as we might be more intertwined."

"Intertwined- Look, and I'll be very clear, I don't trust you. I don't like you. I don't want anything to do with you, and I would honestly prefer to never see you again. And who's Logan?"

"Oh my stars, it's even worse than I thought." Roman gasped. "You haven't told each other your names yet!"

The waiter seemed to have a permanent glare. "Could you leave now? If anything I say didn't move you, even a tiny bit, then obviously you're too wrapped into your own fantastical world-"

Roman smiled, understanding. The man in front of him only seemed more agitated. "Friend, I understand. With your prickly personality I would too, never would have made a move. But my dear Logan has been stuck in his prejudiced to believe in romance! So tell me, what is your name?"

"I'm not telling you that. And if you do want to pursue Patton, leave me alone. And why do you keep talking about yourself in third person?"

"Who's Patton?" Roman blinked. Were they even discussing anything at the same wavelength?

The waiter bit his lip, before asking, "You're not the coffee guy?" He then ignored Roman's clouded face in confusion, to stalk outside in the bathroom.

He could vaguely hear a protest, as the prince wannabe behind him spouted nonsense as he, indiscreetly, ended their conversation.

* * *

Virgil heard his stalker gasp behind him, as they both took in the scene.

Patton smiled brighter than ever, as a reserved man wearing a tie smiled.

Two pairs of eyes widened as Patton leaned forward and planted a kiss on the tie guy, who immediately blushed.

"Does that guy kisses people platonically, or..." Prep stereotype looked to him in question.

"I- no? I don't think so. He's never kissed me. We're friends."

Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets as he mulled. That solves the mystery of Patton's coffee crusader. But that doesn't answer who-

Virgil flinched as the prep beside him spoke in glee, "I was right about one thing!" He was smiling, way too proud for someone who had been wrong about everything so far.

Knight wannabe continued, "We are totally gonna be the bestest of friends! You're friends with that guy, and I'm friends with my favorite nerd!" He held out a hand. "I'm Roman Prince. Nice to know Logan likes someone more suited!"

Virgil scoffed at the pre-offered hand. "Nice try, Princey." Somehow, the nickname felt right. "Still not telling my name. And thank whatever real deity that Pat didn't fall for you."

As Virgil left the dramatic prince to figure if that was an insult, he couldn't control the smirk that slid on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRY AND CONVINCE ME THAT ROMAN WOULDN'T BE A FANBOY, CONSIDERING HIS STATUS OF DISNEY FANATICISM. Virgil has heterochromia in this fic!!! Based from the puppets.  
> It's nice to be back.


	4. Conviction and Persuasion

Despite the amount of time he'd convinced himself that he wasn't trying to be edgy anymore, there are just times where Virgil wants to stop existing.

Like now.

"You want us to what?"

Princey looked like he wanted to bounce in glee. "You heard me."

Mustering up the most deadpan, most dry, and most firm tone he can, Virgil repeated, "You want us," he pointed at himself and to the other, "to pretend to be a," he didn't even have to fake his disgust as he spat the word, "couple."

Roman nodded swiftly.

Virgil snapped his mouth shut. A fish out of water isn't a good look on him, but the words won't come. He inhaled for a moment, composing himself, and then repeated, "You want us to pretend to be a couple."

"That's right!"

"Um, _why?_ "

Roman didn't hesitate. "You know my friend Logan, right? And how he's utterly smitten with lovely Patton? Well I was thinking that he could be incredibly dense at times. But with a little help, I think that those two would be incredible together!"

"And you don't think they will be able to reach that without you?"

"Of course!"

"You know, the sad part about this is I don't think you're joking."

"I'm not!"

"Well there's a few things wrong with that scenario." A full blown rant sat inside his mind, but he decided it just wasn't worth it.

"Come now, no need to make such a fuss. This is for a good cause!"

Virgil scoffed. "This should be good." He once again decided against asking, _does this not sound inane to you? How would it even work?,_ on fear that Roman would think he was interested.

"I'm gonna need you to back up for a moment." He then enunciated the next words slowly, "You want us to pretend to be a couple to bring our friends together."

"That's the plan!"

“Great. Now that we have a basic sense of planning, I am now throwing away your insane daydreaming and tell you that that will not work in any way, including the fantasy realm you are unfortunate enough to conjure. See ya.”

Virgil stuffed his hands inside his hoodie and walked quickly, fearing pursuit.

“Wait!"

Virgil ignored every reservation he had about exercise and _sprinted_ , rather than being in the least associated with the raving lunatic.

It was no surprise, perhaps, when the acting prince chased him down without breaking into sweat, while his legs ached and begged him for reprieve. His pride wouldn’t let up, however, so he continued to exert force with his power walk.

“Dear Sonic I will give you a ring, just wait!” The prince of theatrics called to him, while he struggled on not bumping into random pedestrians.

Much like a prey hunted relentlessly by a predator, something's gonna give.

Virgil weaved through crowds, but so did Roman.

Virgil huffed, and mentally reconsidered his stance on a healthy lifestyle.

At the sight of a local park bench, Virgil was done. He was not built for such chase. He sat down; relief pouring into aching joints, as he stubbornly ignored the man who sat next to him, undoubtedly pleased with himself.

Thankfully, Roman allowed him a few minutes of respite as he calmed his breath.

The world passed around them- people went their ways, leaves rustled in a sweet rhythm as wind flew through, while ripples made their way at the nearby pond.

"It's not gonna work."

Roman cocked his head. "You don't know that."

"I don't think I need to elaborate on how incredibly stupid your idea is. If your so-called matchmaking failed, what are we gonna do, pretend to be broken up? That would crush Patton! He’s gonna think like it’s his fault!”

"That's why we prevent them from ever falling out."

"That is emotional manipulation."

"Exactly!"

“I won’t have any part of it.”

“Virgil,” Roman whined.

“No.”

“But they’re-”

“Good for each other?”

“I was going for practically perfect in every way, but I guess that works too.”

"You're not gonna give up until I answer, aren't you?" Virgil crossed his arms and leaned back, the metal cold on his skin. "Okay, Prince Mediocre. Let’s say I do want my da… Patton to stop moping around for his coffee crusader. What’s the plan? Play dates?”

“That would work...”

With all his bravado, Virgil assumed the other had a more _concrete_ plan. Why did he even bother? “Goodbye.” Virgil snapped his headphones back into place, not even bothering to play any music.

Softer now, a little less enthusiastic, more frustrated, Roman said, “Three chances, all right? Give me three adventures to structure their budding romance, and if they fail to connect I will be forced to admit I could possibly maybe just a tad bit wrong, and you never have to see my face ever again. You could stop it at any time. How’s that?”

Virgil gave him a sideways glare. "Desperate. Why do you even care about setting up your brianiac? He’s an adult, he can figure out if there’s some void from the missing part of his life and decide to do if there are things he must do!”

At his outburst, Roman shifted. Eyes downward and speech uncertain, he said, “He can be a little oblivious to emotions, even his. I know there’s a chance for them to work, but only if there is a small push to the right direction!” He looked up with pure determination.

Virgil won't budge. "No."

“Why not?”

“We don’t even know you guys. You’re expecting me to just hand over my friend for your pet project?”

In the short time they’ve met, it was then for the first time where Roman found Virgil in his natural state- glaring like there’s no tomorrow, eyes filled with so much disgust that it took some effort for the Prince to keep staring back. He wondered if there was something that made him that way; full of distrust and a lingering feeling of the capacity for malice.

“I get what you are saying. But your reluctance may cause them happiness for their lifetimes! How many times do you see your friend even be remotely interested in another person romantically? Would you deny them the opportunity to become-”

“Why do you even care so much about this?”

“Logan is a dear friend of mine-”

“I don’t care if he’s the freaking president of Pluto, tell me _why_.”

“Why what?”

“Why should I trust you! Both of you?”

“Have I given any indication that you shouldn’t otherwise?”

“I’m not letting you mess with Patton. And if you don’t want your _friend_ being banned from the shop until hell freezes over, you would stop coming by.”

Roman asked innocently, "Which hell? I'm pretty sure Dante's has literal ice in it."

Roman was pretty sure Virgil face-palmed.

“That’s not a good way to run a business. Would Patton be aware that you'd be turning away people in need of his shop?”

Virgil was getting tired of it. "This isn’t a fairy tale, much as you want it to be, Princey. Things don't work out the way you want it to, and certainly, cute little plans don't always work out."

"I'm going now. Don't follow me." Virgil glared. He knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd see Roman. Annoying, but nothing he couldn't handle.

There was something he got out of the conversation, however. It was the fact, the knowledge, unrequited observation but still slammed into his mind: Roman wasn't the type to give up easily. And that... is the true horror.

* * *

"Don't move." Whispered directly behind him. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, gripping him tight.

Virgil froze. Silver pressed against his neck, and he swallowed unconsciously.

He knew he shouldn't have taken the back alley just to dissuade Roman. Damn it all.

"Hand over your wallet. Quickly."

Scratch whatever whining he had earlier. _Now's_ the time to stop existing.

"Not so fast."

Roman, like the dick he is, appeared with a swagger.

Virgil groaned internally. Great, of course he has a stalker. How else would Roman know where he was?

"Leave him alone." Roman commanded.

The mugger behind him pressed the knife closer, not yet enough to break skin. "Try me."

"Do I have a say in this?" Virgil snapped.

The two ignored him.

It was a stalemate, but Virgil did not like being used. He was tired, his phone was dying, and he would really like to just snuggle away from the season's unpredictable weather. Just his luck that in today's toss coin of the cool or hot temperature, he had bet wrong.

For the most part, he was glad for Roman's distraction, because then he could escape.

He grabbed the arms in front of him and used his weight to throw off his captor, body tilting enough to throw the guy off his balance and for him to slip out of the grab.

Now, self-defense lessons have taught him to just jab the man with their own knife, but he wasn't that much of a dick, yet. He just wanted to nap, damn it.

Instead, he just kicked at the man's legs, and watched him fall to the ground.

"Sorry. I'm allergic to knives." He turned to leave, shrugging on his headphones, but the man was either, persistent, mad, or desperate. In any case, he didn't expect, nor see the knife that flew towards him.

Another body pressed at him- sending him to fall into the pavewalk. The pressure to his lungs and back sent his eyes blacking out. He groaned.

The pressure at his back went as soon as the weight lifted off.

As soon as the world stopped throbbing, Virgil sat up and stared.

Roman was busy, fighting off the man who had nothing to lose.

Roman was defensive, just trying to protect, and the man was relentless. He evaded.

Roman finally landed a punch to the other's stomach, which sent the man sprawling. After the mugger went down, he grabbed Virgil and ran.

He didn't resist.

 

 

Once they've made enough turns to lose their pursuer, Roman exploded. "That man was deranged! Why didn't you look back!" He fumed. He muttered something under his breath, along the lines of, _always_ with the walking out!

Virgil didn't appreciate being scolded. Heat rose to his cheeks. "Well- that... He was on the ground! How was I supposed to know he could still move?"

"You're frustrating!"

Virgil clicked his tongue, breaths a mile a minute. "Yeah? Well, right back at you, Princey.

The devil you know, right? Still: Running. Why was it always running. Virgil noticed it was the same park they've run into earlier. He stumbled off to find a seat. "Exercise. Just great."

Relief flooded his limbs as he leaned back into the bench, hyper aware of the thudding inside his chest.

Roman panted beside him, taking too much liberty with his personal space. "Still. A little gratitude would be fine. I did take a hit for you."

Cute. Narcissistic and chivalrous. Perfect combination, considering the surname and all. "Well I didn't ask you to." Virgil took a peek at the panting guy beside him and saw the beginning of a bruise at the Prince’s cheek. Virgil bit his lip, but could almost sense the disapproving stare from Patton. _Fine_. "Thanks."

Roman absolutely exploded into sunshine. Virgil wanted to hit him.

"Trust me now?" Roman was still too light, too happy. It was... frustratingly familiar.

"Well, considering that you have been stalking me for the worst part, and that’s the first thing you ask after I’ve been threatened with a knife, I’m still gonna say no."

"I have good intentions!" Roman protested.

The petulant childishness and the absurdity of the situation just dawned on him. Virgil began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" A frown.

In between chokes, Virgil replied, "You."

In came offended Princey noises.

Just when he thought he could stop, Roman was still staring with that expression.

"Breathe, you dolt."

As if his body was purposely spiting him, Virgil clutched at his stomach, assaulted with pain.

He held his breath to stop the tremors. Still, "Who uses _dolt_?" He wheezed.

From straining his lungs from their marathon to _this_. He was a mess.

"Oh, did I break you? That easily?" Roman sighed loudly, but didn't bother to hide his amusement.

It took him a bit of an effort, but Virgil finally calmed.

"I was starting to think I should call an asylum." Roman teased.

Lighter and lighter, as seemed as he was with basically this... stranger, he snickered. "I'm starting to think that you're bad luck."

He looked outraged. "Me? _I'm_ the one with bad luck? You're the one emulating Julius Caesar!"

"Sure," Virgil shrugged, like being compared to that dictator led to a happy ending. "And none of that happened when you weren't here."

"Destiny, then." Roman proclaimed. Proudly. It was sickening. "I was supposed to protect you."

Virgil snorted. "At least I found the one spot that could hurt you. Facts and reality."

"Oh, and I suppose paranoia and unfriendliness is better?"

"Unfriendliness?" Virgil weighed the word in his mouth. "I think general distaste for humanity is a little more apt."

Roman laughed. Too loud and too free, and yet, somehow it was music. Virgil wished he hadn't heard it.

"I don't think you've seen enough of humanity if you think everyone's about to get you." _There are good people, too_ , his pause seemed to say.

"I just got almost stabbed today." He reminded him. "I don't think I'm in the position to think so lightly about humanity."

"Well, I did got my outfit crumpled to prevent that."

"See? Priorities. Add one thing that humanity is bad for: crumpling your outfit. Not violence in general."

Roman had that expression of someone trying to be angry. It didn't work. His eyes were crinkled. "I knew there was something residing under your dark clothes. Dark humor, yes. But I could appreciate."

"Hm." The doubt meme flashed in Virgil's mind. "I bet you talk to random animals. Then terrify children with random and unwarranted Disney trivia. In that order."

"Who doesn't like animals? I don't see why I can't have both."

Virgil rolled his shoulder as he stretched. "No objection to being a Disney fan, huh? At least I could say I relate."

Roman's face lit up. It was unfair, how he keeps trying to blind Virgil with all that. "Look at that, we have something in common against all odds? What's next, you're gonna admit you like musicals too?"

Virgil decided to act out the Fifth Amendment.

A calm silence descended towards them, both breaths evening out to the point of being inaudible.

Roman bumped shoulders with Virgil's. While foreign, he couldn't find it in him to protest.

Forgoing all his usual bravado, Roman mumbled, "I don't see how wanting to make two people happy makes me the bad guy here."

"I get it." Virgil said after a moment, as he swiped his hair up in contemplation. "Everyone's the protagonist of their own story. You, especially, think that." Virgil ignored the pout sent his way. "But you can't just... control* people and expect them to be happy about it."

Roman quietly absorbed the words. He knew he shouldn't push the issue, even when he knew that he knew there was a hint there- a truth between the lines. He was snapped out his mind as the other spoke once more;

"But I could, agree that you’re maybe,” Virgil’s voice stubbornly drew to a whisper, “you’re not as bad as I think."

Butterflies fluttered within Roman. A grin split his face.

Virgil waited with bated breath.

Like an idiot, Princey disturbed the calm with a loud tease of, "Aww, you love me."

"Not as much as you hope." He couldn't help but snicker in return.

Feeling bold, Roman held out a hand. "Enough to become friends?"

Virgil stared incredulously at the hand. "Dork." Yet without any more deliberation, he flicked his fingers on Roman's forehead. "Sure."

"Was that really necessary?"

"Was the hand really necessary?" Virgil said, in the same tone. "You're not campaigning."

"Maybe I am! Campaigning for your love!"

It was easy enough for Roman to detect the amusement hidden in his mismatched eyes, even if the expression with it was exasperated.

Roman flexed his fingers, and felt a small sting. "What now?"

"Well, I'm tired, assaulted, and stalked, not to mention badgered by the one and only annoying Prince-"

"You did mention it."

"-so I really should be going." Tired, sweaty and cold at the same time. Virgil wondered if he should've stayed home.

"Do you want me to-"

"I'll be fine." He straightened his clothes as much as possible, before waving silently to Roman. With a nod that said, *see ya, Virgil walked- with a pace that truly agrees with him, thank you very much- then heard his new friend call out-

"No pretending this time, but you're still helping me match-make our friends, right?!"

"....."

"I didn't hear a no!"

Virgil sighed and didn't look back. Stubborn, stubborn Princey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dudes. each and every one of you who commented. who threw kudos and lit this thing up with hits: Thank you for taking the time to read!!! (⁎˃ᆺ˂) Your presence and interactions absolutely makes my day (ᗒᗨᗕ)  
> Also: you guys are _not ready_ for logicality date


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